Take a Chance on Me(16)

She nodded. “I hear him in my head sometimes, even after a year.”

He laughed. “I hear him in my head after ten years. But I found that everything he said was spot-on. Especially in a small town like Deep Haven. Everyone is watching you here. You have to keep your word and earn their trust one case at a time and never, never abuse your power.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“Of course not. But justice to one person looks like favoritism to another. This may be the hardest job you ever have.”

“I want to get this right. I’ve dreamed of living here ever since . . .” She grimaced. “Well, since the Jensen Atwood case.”

“It was your memo that called for a departure from sentencing guidelines and set up the plea agreement.”

“Yes. I still remember the day Thornton Atwood passed it to me—in fact, he gave it to an associate, who gave it to me. Truth was, I didn’t know I was doing research on his son’s case. He told me to find a way to get the defendant out of jail time. I slaved over that memo, looking for precedent. Daniel was one of my law professors at the time; he read the piece and thought it was a slick bit of legal work.”

“And you didn’t worry about the ethics?”

“Why? Atwood wasn’t representing the case, and I didn’t even know Jensen. To be frank, I thought it was a teaching exercise until I saw it on the news after I turned it in.”

“You didn’t see the headlines?”

“I was clerking and going to law school. I didn’t watch television.”

DJ nodded. “Daniel told me you were one of his shining stars.”

Shining stars. Oh, she missed him.

DJ picked up a file and paged through it. “Jensen still lives here, you know. Still working on his hours. Mitch O’Conner is his probation officer. His office is just down the hall.”

“I saw Jensen the other night at the VFW. Nearly said hi, but he doesn’t know me.”

“Probably better that way,” DJ said.

“Why?”

He frowned and slowly shook his head. “He might not thank you for what you did. It hasn’t been easy to live here.”

“And going to jail would have been better? Listen, Deep Haven should be happy they got anything on him. At least justice prevailed.”

“Justice can take many shades, especially in a small town.” He put the file back on the stack. “In this job, you get to know your friends, your neighbors, and as their lives weave together with yours, the lines become blurred. You have to always be thinking of conflict-of-interest issues. You get to know the darker side of the community, your neighbors.”

“Deep Haven hardly has a dark side,” Ivy said with a smile. “Not like Minneapolis.”

“You still think that after spending the last day preparing for court?”

Her smile died. “I came here because I wanted to make a difference. Daniel always said small acts of justice can make great ripples in the community.”

“Or tear it apart. One of our former assistant CAs left after she had to prosecute her best friend’s son. The son went to jail, she lost her friend, and she was dragged through the paper for weeks. She finally left, moved out of town completely.”

Ivy stared at him. Oh.

He got up. “Remember, every case is personal. And in a town like this, that means it’s about your grocer, your banker, the local barista, your favorite waitress, even sometimes a deacon in the church. People you know and care about. You might have to give them the hard news that their lives are about to change—and you’re the one making it happen.”

She tried to add a little laughter to her voice. “Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t know anyone. Not really. I can be impartial.”

DJ raised a dark eyebrow. “Hmm. Don’t you? Wasn’t that you who purchased Darek Christiansen in the bachelor auction?”

Her mouth opened.

He laughed. “It’s a small town, Ivy. Besides, I was there.”

“It was just for charity. I can promise there is nothing between Darek Christiansen and me.”

He held up his hand. “None of my business. You may be playing with fire there a little, but it’s your life. I’m just saying that your address book is going to fill up faster than you think.” He opened the door. “Don’t stay too late. Judge Magnusson is fair, but she doesn’t like napping in her courtroom.”

“Good night, Mr. Teague.”

“DJ.” He winked and closed the door behind him.

DJ counted as the second person who’d warned her about Darek Christiansen. He’d been skirting the edge of her brain all day, the way he’d morphed right before her eyes into a man with a heart of flesh. And his family—what might it be like to have a family who rushed to each other’s aid? She imagined their Thanksgiving table, loud and noisy, their Christmases messy and cluttered. She could see Darek wrestling with his brother Casper as children, or the two sisters sharing secrets as they polished their toenails.